Koa
There's an art to life's distractions
He leans, ravenous, into the kiss, letting the ferocity of her need fill those empty spaces carved into his heart. On the heels of rejection, in the wake of exhaustion, Flora is a cool drink on a blistering day - an indulgence that no doubt shall be followed by a wicked hangover, but who cares about the crash when there's such a great high? It's a problem for future Koa.
Present Koa is wholly engrossed with the exploration of Flora's body, the way she moans and arcs and arches beneath his fingertips. He grins against the heat of her mouth, thoroughly delighted to find her so fervently receptive, laughing at her eagerness as she tears away the now-damp lace that bars him from slipping inside her body.
And slip inside he does, two thick fingers pressing easily into the heat of her core, hand cupping to improve his access. His whole body follows suit: in one fluid move he flips their positions, lowering Flora onto the ground and rising up above her on hands and knees. It gives him better access as well as a better view; Koa makes no secret about his admiration as he takes a moment to look over her body, his thumb still rubbing lazy circles against her throbbing clit.
"Fuck, you're beautiful," Koa breathes, the words punctuated by thrusts of his fingers into her. If anyone asked Koa how he thought his day would wind up going, the answer would not have been close to this.
But y'know, our boy ain't mad.
Present Koa is wholly engrossed with the exploration of Flora's body, the way she moans and arcs and arches beneath his fingertips. He grins against the heat of her mouth, thoroughly delighted to find her so fervently receptive, laughing at her eagerness as she tears away the now-damp lace that bars him from slipping inside her body.
And slip inside he does, two thick fingers pressing easily into the heat of her core, hand cupping to improve his access. His whole body follows suit: in one fluid move he flips their positions, lowering Flora onto the ground and rising up above her on hands and knees. It gives him better access as well as a better view; Koa makes no secret about his admiration as he takes a moment to look over her body, his thumb still rubbing lazy circles against her throbbing clit.
"Fuck, you're beautiful," Koa breathes, the words punctuated by thrusts of his fingers into her. If anyone asked Koa how he thought his day would wind up going, the answer would not have been close to this.
But y'know, our boy ain't mad.
To somehow escape the burning weight, the art of scraping through
